


tears

by orphan_account



Series: help me breathe [6]
Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangs, M/M, THIS IS THE TRUE GARBAGE HONESTly, cool beans, descriptions of violence gore uncomfortable situations lil bit of dick and self harm, nice, sangwon is fuqued up, so thus:, wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:46:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red lipstick. Red blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tears

**Author's Note:**

> neato  
> idk i dont have much to say abt these  
> before u come after me for this google up the lyrics to happy  
> also [this image](https://40.media.tumblr.com/1a72e95524305002d2b166d5182c0071/tumblr_nl0na7t4N61tee4ffo1_540.png) perfectly sums up this fic  
> kudos + comments are appreciated!!

Sangwon likes dreaming, but he’s tired of dying in his dreams. He’s tired of waking up drenched in sweat and feeling his neck and stomach for signs of trauma, waking up with the feeling of blood still pouring out of him and the twisted pain that you can only feel in dreams lingering on his skin. **  
**

In real life, he’s not afraid of dying. But dreams are the one thing that he’s ever had, whether metaphorically or literally, and he doesn’t want to spend those few hours (minutes) in pain. He’d rather dream about someone else dying- he thinks while sitting at the kitchen table that, maybe, he’d like to see Sehyuk bleed out, a pretty gash in his throat and gorgeous eyes glazed over. Or- actually, he’d rather watch Hansol die. He’d rather kill Hansol, rather watch blades glint against his pale skin and hear his sweet voice beg for his life. His fingers itch- he has to scrape his fingernails against them to calm himself.

He heard once that red lipstick works best on pale skin because of the striking contrast. He wonders if it’s true for blood, too.

 

Really, Sangwon likes blood more than he likes dreaming. He digs his fingernails into his own wrists and tears himself open so he can see blood drip from his own body and onto the tile, something of his own leaving him and staining the floor beneath him. He always bandages himself back up because he doesn’t want to die just yet, no, he just wants to see what keeps him alive.

He likes seeing other people’s blood more than his own, though. He can’t help it- he ends up achingly hard every time he’s sent out to kill someone, and he usually jacks off with blood still on his hands. Hansol thinks it’s weird (“You’re fucked up,” is actually what Hansol says, but whatever), but Sangwon really doesn’t care.

His favorite day is the day they bring in Hyosang, the day he gets to see so much _blood_ , soaking the carpet, the stain spreading towards his feet once he steps back to admire his handiwork. He can’t stop himself, he has to sink to his knees and lean in, pressing his tongue to the raw wounds and licking up the blood, coating his face and hands in it and rutting down against Hyosang’s body.

He hears Sehyuk shifting uncomfortably behind him from his armchair, where he’s been sitting since they brought Hyosang in, but Sangwon, again, really doesn’t care. Hyosang is too far gone to protest, eyes falling shut as Sangwon runs his tongue over his teeth, finding the spots where his teeth were knocked out and pressing the tip of his tongue into them.

The gentle gush of blood into his own mouth from Hyosang’s gums is enough to get him to cum, hot and wet in his pants, no sound coming from his mouth as he continues to clean all the blood from Hyosang’s face, iron heavy on his tongue. Once he stands up, he waves pleasantly to the three people staring at him (only two with judgment in their eyes, and only one with horror in his) and exits the room, the edge of his shoe catching one of Hyosang’s hands on his way out.

Hansol looks at him strangely for months, flinching every time Sangwon touches him. Sangwon just thinks of how great it’d be to do the same to Hansol, and wonders if Hansol would taste different.

 

The only thing Sangwon truly hates is crying. He hasn’t cried in years, not since his father died when he was twelve, and he can’t stand it when anyone else cries. It makes him feel something, something akin to pity and guilt, and it also makes him want to vomit.

“Stop crying,” he whispers at first, hands shaking, gun parts rattling together as he raises it. “Stop crying,” he repeats, finger curling around the trigger.

The guy’s an informant, so he has to die, but he’s whimpering so pitifully into his hands, curled in on himself. It seemed like he had accepted death there for a while, but then he gave some sort of a shrieking sob a minute or so earlier and hadn’t stopped since. Sangwon can’t take it.

He takes him home and Sehyuk looks first to Sangwon, then to the spindly man hanging off of his arm.

(What was his name, Taeyang?)

“Sangwon,” Sehyuk begins, voice light, “I thought you were supposed to kill him?”

Sangwon had intentions of playing it off, being cool and nonchalant about it like he tries to be, but all that comes out of his mouth is a hushed stutter  of, “H-He wouldn’t stop crying, I-I couldn’t- I-”

Sehyuk hushes him, standing up to come pat Sangwon’s shoulder gently, then to take Taeyang from him. Taeyang breaks away from Sangwon unwillingly and Sangwon pushes down his urge to pull him back, chewing at his lip as his eyes move over Taeyang’s pale skin.

_Red lipstick. Red blood._

Sangwon’s gaze stops at the point where Sehyuk’s hand is touching Taeyang’s arm, at his elbow, beneath where his sleeve stops. Sangwon feels anger swell in his chest. He doesn’t want Sehyuk to do that, he doesn’t want Sehyuk to beat him during initiation and make him bruised and bloody- he wants to do that, he wants to so badly.

Sangwon explains it with gentle touches and words, explains what Sehyuk does to initiates and what Sangwon’s going to do instead. Taeyang nods, tearful, and Sangwon is no longer in a position where he can’t hug him, so he cuddles him close and asks for Taeyang to tell him about himself.

“I-I’m twenty-five…” Taeyang begins, speaking against Sangwon’s neck, and Sangwon nods in acknowledgment. “I- I don’t even know what to tell you, what do you want to know?”

“Do you think you’re pretty?” Sangwon asks, and Taeyang pauses for a long while.

“I… maybe once, I did, but not anymore.”

“I think you’re pretty,” Sangwon whispers, pulling Taeyang more upright so he can get a look at his face. High cheekbones, dark circles under his eyes, residual eyeliner from his earlier crying fit streaked down his cheeks. His eyes have a soft look in them, like he’s not afraid of Sangwon. “Very pretty.”

Taeyang smiles, gentle and kind, and Sangwon leans forward to rest his forehead against Taeyang’s. “Thank you,” Taeyang whispers, and his breath smells remarkably pleasant in contrast to the dirtiness of his hair and the dirt spread across his skin.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Sangwon asks, brushing Taeyang’s hair away from his face, and Taeyang nods. “Come on, I’ll show you where it is. Do you want my clothes to wear, do you want me to wash yours?”

“What clothes do you have?” Taeyang asks, so Sangwon takes him over to his closet and opens it, purposefully not mentioning the jars on the shelf inside. Taeyang doesn’t seem to notice and instead slowly reaches out a hand, looking to Sangwon to see if it’s okay, and then rifling slowly through his closet when he gets the go ahead. He picks out an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and Sangwon supplies a pair of underwear, to which Taeyang’s cheeks flush a pretty pink.

Sangwon loves him.

 

It’s true- red looks best against pale skin, splashed across white and smudged onto light lips. Sangwon asks, unashamed, if he can take a picture, and Taeyang nods. He loves that Taeyang didn’t cry the whole time, just let Sangwon hit and scratch and, eventually, bite him. Maybe he figured that Sehyuk would have done much worse.

Sangwon gets up to get his phone, eyeing the bloodied spots on his knuckles and fingers as he scrolls through his apps briefly, opening his camera and walking back to Taeyang. He gently tips Taeyang’s head up, getting a good angle so that the light glints off of the drying blood on his mouth, and snaps a photo, smiling. He then leans down, pressing his mouth to Taeyang’s and grabbing his bottom lip to scrape the scabbed blood off of it.

Taeyang whimpers into his mouth and Sangwon pulls back, happy to see that his efforts paid off. He drags his thumb through the fresh blood, smearing it across Taeyang’s bottom lip and pausing so he can take a picture.

“Do you want to see?” Sangwon asks excitedly after he licks the blood first off his own thumb and then off of Taeyang’s lips. Taeyang nods slowly, so Sangwon opens his picture gallery and turns the phone to Taeyang once the first picture is up, sliding his finger across the screen after a bit to show the second.

Taeyang smiles a bit, looking up at Sangwon. “It’s- it’s pretty.”

Sangwon nods, putting his phone away and sinking down to sit in front of Taeyang, pulling him close and kissing at the deep bite marks on Taeyang’s neck, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. “Maybe I shouldn’t have waited until after you had showered, do you want to take another one?”

He sees Taeyang looking at his arms, eyeing the bruises and scratches, before Taeyang carefully wraps his arms around Sangwon. “It’s alright.”

Sangwon pulls Taeyang’s shirt collar out, nipping at the skin at his collarbones and then sucking a hickey into existence, liking the small noise Taeyang makes in return. Sangwon doesn’t ever want to let him go, but eventually he has to because Taeyang touches the back of his head lightly and tells him that he needs to go to the bathroom. Sangwon lets him go and remains in the floor, trying to ignore his hard-on in favor of not scaring Taeyang when he comes back. But his fingers itch, and he has to scrape his fingernails against them to distract himself.

 

Everything Taeyang does is absolutely fascinating. Sangwon watches him all the time, trying to learn him, trying to accommodate for what he likes and doesn’t like. Taeyang likes kisses the best, but he still moans when Sangwon bites him; he likes oversized shirts and has never bothered with buying anything of his own, nor has he asked; he doesn’t like loud noises or shouting or when anyone grabs him suddenly. So Sangwon asks if he can hurt him, gives him his shirts, and speaks and touches gently, because he just loves Taeyang so much.

Taeyang is also quite curious about others, but respects them all the while- he asks Sehyuk, softly and with proper formality, why he smokes so much, and Sehyuk replies with equal formality that it’s because he doesn’t want to get stressed. He asks Sangwon if it’s okay to look around his room, then finds the jars in his closet and asks if it’s alright to look at them too (Sangwon says yes, of course, then explains why he keeps hands and fingers in jars and why there’s a mouse in there too).

Then there’s one day when he tries to carefully pick a clump of lint off of Hansol’s shirt and Hansol grabs his wrist and twists sharply, causing Taeyang to cry out and try to pull away from Hansol. Sangwon looks up from his phone quickly, then springs up and walks to the opposite side of the table with purpose, grabbing Hansol’s wrist hard and giving him a pointed look.

There’s something of a challenge in Hansol’s eyes, under the layers of exhaustion and grief, but he sighs and lets go of Taeyang, pulling his arm away from Sangwon rather violently and standing up, walking away.

Sangwon turns to Taeyang, gently cupping his face in his hands and kissing his forehead. “Are you alright?” He asks, rubbing his thumbs underneath Taeyang’s eyes, and Taeyang nods. Sangwon takes his hand, lifting it up so he can kiss the red indents pressed into Taeyang’s skin, then kissing all the way around his wrist in preparation for the bruises to come.

Taeyang’s fingertips brush against Sangwon’s cheek purposefully, and when Sangwon looks up, Taeyang’s eyes are welling up. “I didn’t know he would do that,” he whispers, stroking Sangwon’s cheek gently, “thank you.”

Sangwon stands upright again, kissing Taeyang firmly before stepping back to pick him up, carrying him up the stairs and to Sangwon’s room. “Cuddles,” Sangwon explains when Taeyang’s expression reads ‘confused’, and Taeyang smiles big.

 

“Sangwon.”

Sangwon looks up from his phone, putting it away when he sees that it’s Taeyang that’s said his name. He ushers for Taeyang to come into his room and Taeyang does so, shutting the door behind him and walking towards him. Sangwon reaches for him once he’s close enough and Taeyang sits in his lap, straddling him and putting his legs around his waist.

“You like- you like blood, don’t you?” Taeyang asks, almost sheepish, and Sangwon nods excitedly. Taeyang raises his hand, and all Sangwon sees is the red dripping from his fingers. “I cut myself on accident, but- you like it, right? I wanted to show you first.”

Sangwon takes Taeyang’s hand in his, licking up the underside of his index finger before sucking it into his mouth. He feels the cut and makes a noise in the back of his throat, heat pooling in his stomach, and sucks the other bloodied finger into his mouth as well.

 _I want to cut him open_.

He digs his bottom teeth into Taeyang’s fingertips, dragging them to reopen the cut and then pulling his fingers out of his mouth, moving to crush his lips against Taeyang’s. He licks into Taeyang’s mouth excitedly, wanting to find out if he made the insides of his lips bleed, and Taeyang breaks away for a moment. Sangwon whines, not wanting the loss of contact, but he sees what Taeyang’s doing- he’s biting into the insides of his lips, opening up wounds before leaning in to kiss Sangwon again. There’s blood on Taeyang’s tongue and pouring into his mouth, into Sangwon’s mouth, escaping and dripping onto Taeyang’s white shirt.

Sangwon can’t stand it anymore. He grabs Taeyang by the shoulders and flips him onto his back, moving to his neck and sinking his teeth in. Taeyang gasps, grabbing hold of Sangwon’s arms, and Sangwon works at tearing Taeyang’s skin, needing more blood, needing to see it, taste it.

“Please let me fuck you,” Sangwon breathes, mouth stained with red.

Taeyang nods fervently, sliding one hand up Sangwon’s back and into his hair. “Bite me again.”

 

The only opinion Taeyang really has on Sangwon is that he’s scary. He looks at Taeyang like he’d look at a five course meal and makes remarks about wanting to tear him open and look at his insides. Despite it, he’s not actually that scared of Sangwon- it’s like he just respects him more for it.

He doesn’t believe Sangwon whenever he says he loves him, but he does feel loved, even if just a little. He remembers the first day he was here every time he looks in the mirror.

 _Do you think you’re pretty_?

Taeyang does, he really does. He’s always been pale, never catching a tan even when he went outside in the summer, and the dark bruises and healing bites and cuts on his throat and shoulders are gorgeous. He likes to take pictures on Sangwon’s phone, selfie style, showing off his wounds with a cute pose.

Taeyang doesn’t think he’d really mind if Sangwon killed him. He accepted death almost a year ago, when Sangwon had first broken into his hideout and pointed a gun at him, so he wouldn’t care if Sangwon decided, one day, to just keep biting, just keep cutting, just keep hitting until Taeyang passed out and he could finally fulfill his fantasies.

Taeyang replays Sangwon’s words in his mind as he puts his fingers loosely around his own neck, fingers matching up with the bruises already there.  _I want to tear you apart._  He tightens his hold, fingernails slotting into the indents from Sangwon’s own nails.  _I want to see if you’re pretty on the inside_. Taeyang closes his eyes, then smiles.  _I want to taste you, every bit of you_. He sighs, not entirely unhappy.

_If he wants to rip me to shreds and bathe in my blood, then let him._


End file.
